


the music we make

by ackermanx



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, bokuaka is very important, fiddler bokuto, oikawa being a smug bastard, violinist akaashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 06:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5656492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackermanx/pseuds/ackermanx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yes! We are so going to win this!" The white-haired man pumps his fist, and Akaashi fears for the fiddle he's holding.</p><p>He steps forward - he can't help himself - and clears his throat. Suddenly, four pairs of intense eyes land on Akaashi, waiting for him to speak. </p><p>"Owl-san, your sixteenth notes were off."</p>
            </blockquote>





	the music we make

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LovelyBunns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyBunns/gifts).



> I almost died from secondhand embarrassment while writing this. bokuto is such a grownup child :')
> 
> also I put more technical terms than I originally wanted to?? but oh well hopefully it's not too confusing 
> 
> ALSO, A VERY LATE MERRY CHRISTMAS ~ like. really late. oh well *throws confetti*

Akaashi was Confused.

 

(Not the why-is-my-pencil-over-there-instead-of-over-here kind of confused.)

 

He comes to a stop, wipes a bead of sweat off of his brow, sets his violin case on the ground to give his arm a bit of a rest, and pulls out his phone to call Yaku.

 

“Hello? Is everything alright? No, obviously not, or else you wouldn’t be calling me - “ Yaku’s frazzled voice crackles through the tiny phone speaker, along with static so loud that Akaashi has to hold his phone away from his face.

 

“Yaku-san. Please do me a favor.”

 

“ - Sure. What is it?”

 

“Please never let Lev be in charge of giving me directions. Never.”

 

“Oh, no, no, no. Don’t tell me. You’re lost?”

 

“I’m afraid so, Yaku-san.”

 

“Oh - “ Yaku’s voice becomes muffled as he sets down his phone to throw out every curse word he can think of. Soon the audio becomes clear again, and Akaashi can hear Yaku taking deep breaths. “Okay. Sorry about that. Let’s try to think clearly. Have you tried asking in English?”

 

“I have, but all I’ve been getting is funny looks. Maybe I mispronounced something?”

 

“No, I am positive you pronounced everything correctly, we didn’t go over the pronunciation ten times for nothing. It could just be your accent throwing people off…? Anyways, have you met any Japanese people yet?

 

“Not yet, although there does seem to be an abundance of Chinese people here.” Feeling slightly more energized, Akaashi picks up his violin and starts walking again. “By the way, where did you get ‘bloody hell’ from?”

 

“Uh. What?”

 

“When you were cursing, I heard you say ‘bloody hell.’ Isn’t that a British expression?”

 

“Oh! Yeah, I did know this British guy, back when I was still trying to find a job. He was nice enough, but the guy could really swear....”

 

But Akaashi had already stopped listening. “Yaku-san. Yaku-san, I’m sorry, but there’s a concert hall right in front of me right now, and I might be able to ask for directions inside.”

 

“...oh? Oh! That’s great! Well, go on then! I’m hanging up now, bye!” And the line promptly goes dead.

 

Akaashi laughs softly to himself, puts his phone in his pocket, and steps inside.

 

\------------------------------------------------

 

What he is expecting: grand decorations, great acoustics, not many people.

 

What he isn’t expecting: upbeat country music accompanied by people yelling in Japanese.

 

Drawn by the Japanese, hoping to ask for directions, Akaashi strides forward and nearly knocks over a tall, dark-haired woman who had scurried into his path.

 

“Ah! I’m so sorry, sir! It was an accident, I wasn’t looking, I’m sorry - “ she blurts out in English, then straightens up, properly looks at Akaashi’s face, and starts speaking rapid-fire Japanese.

 

“Are you Akaashi Keiji? Oh gosh, you are, aren’t you? Not to sound creepy or anything, but my parents absolutely love your performances. They always go on about how much you pour into your music and - “ She lowers her head, scratching the back of her neck. “Although I wouldn’t know about these things. I...I don’t have much musical ability.”

 

Akaashi can’t help it - he starts laughing. “Oh, don’t worry about that. From my experiences, everyone has some type of musical ability. By the way, do you happen to know where Carnegie Hall is?”

 

“I’m so sorry, but I don’t. If there’s one thing to be said about my musical talents, they are definitely better than my sense of direction.” The woman laughs, slapping her leg with her clipboard. “You can ask those guys, though. I'm pretty sure they should know.” She jerks her thumb in the direction of the performance hall. 

 

“Thank you very much.” Akaashi turns, about to leave, before a thought strikes him, making him turn back again. “By the way, I never did catch your name.”

 

“Y-Yui! I mean, Michimiya! Michimiya Yui!”

 

Akaashi turns back around, a small smile on his lips. “Goodbye, Michimiya-san. I think we'll meet again someday.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------

 

“Louder, Tetsurou! I still can’t hear you!”

 

“Well, maybe it’s because you’re playing the bass line too and you can only hear yourself!”

 

“Oi, guys, shut up! I can’t hear Aki!”

 

Akaashi watches in silence as the quartet onstage plays the last bit of their piece in complete concentration, then ends with a dramatic flourish. All four of them sit in complete silence, until the violinist (fiddler, Akaashi corrects himself) jumps up from his seat.

 

“Alright alright alright! We are so going to win this!” The white-haired man pumps his fist, and Akaashi fears for the fiddle he’s holding.

 

He steps forward - he can’t help himself - and clears his throat. Suddenly, four pairs of intense eyes land on Akaashi, waiting for him to speak.

 

“Owl-san, your sixteenth notes were off.”

 

A moment of silence, then -

 

“Haah? What are you talking about? I was completely in time!”

 

“With yourself, maybe.” Akaashi turns his half-lidded gaze onto the rest of the group. “Would you like to hear the rest?”

 

They nod.

 

“You - “ Akaashi points at the bassist named Tetsurou - “were indeed too quiet. I could barely hear you from the audience.” He turns to the cellist. “You were great, keeping your syncopated notes in time and not rushing. Viola, you were good too, but just be more confident. And Owl-san?” Akaashi sighs, finding a seat near the front and sitting down. “Since I obviously don’t know your music as well as you do, why don’t you all start near the halfway point and I’ll stop you when you get there?”

 

More nods. The four adjust themselves to get into a better position. They begin to play, and Akaashi lets himself be sucked into the music until - 

 

“Stop.” He gets up, leaving his violin behind, and walks towards the stage. “Right there. Which measure was that?”

 

“We, uh, don’t have measure numbers for this piece, but we have rehearsal numbers!” the cellist pipes up. “And that was rehearsal number 16.”

 

By this time Akaashi was already on the stage; now he reaches his arms out to the fiddler, silently asking if it’s alright to use his instrument. Surprisingly, he gives it up without any sort of argument.

 

“See, you’re rushing the pickup notes here. This is an extremely exaggerated version of what you’re doing - “ Akaashi plays the pickup notes as fast as he can, then slows down tremendously once he hits the regular sixteenth notes - “and this is what it should sound similar to.” He plays the measure again, this time with correct timing. “Now, uh, can we start back at rehearsal number 15? Just to hear how it sounds different.”

 

The fiddler sits back in his chair, practically sulking, until Akaashi and the rest of the quartet begin to play; then he perks up, excitedly leaning forward, and applauds loudly when they finish.

 

“Did you really just sight-read all that? That was amazing! How did you do that? Who are you?”

 

The bassist steps forward a bit, eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. I’ve seen you before somewhere.”

 

The violist sighs and stretches. “Well, I hope you’ve seen him before, or else all those videos we watched to improve would be hallucinations.”

 

“Whoa!! No way!!! You’re Akaashi Keiji, world-famous violinist??” The fiddler jumps up in his excitement, almost dropping his instrument.

 

Akaashi winces, then nods.

 

“This is so cool!! By the way, I’m Bokuto Koutarou, the violist is Konoha Akinori, the cellist is Komi Haruki, and the bassist is Kuroo Tetsurou.”

 

Kuroo grins and waves from behind his bass.

 

Akaashi bows slightly, and winces once more when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Ten more minutes. “It’s been nice meeting all of you, but does anyone know the way to Carnegie Hall?”

 

Bokuto flails his arm in the air. “Yeah! I do!”

 

“Can we get there in less than ten minutes?”

 

“We should; it’s just a three minute walk, after all.”

 

“...Okay then. Lead the way.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------

 

Bokuto grins like an idiot for a good part of the walk. Akaashi walks a distance away, partially worried about what other people might think; but when he sees others beginning to smile back, he himself smiles and moves closer.

 

“So...what do you need to go to Carnegie Hall for?” Bokuto hums for a while, then goes back to grinning.

 

At that, Akaashi just raises an eyebrow.

 

“Ah, right, you’re probably performing there. Hey, would it still be possible to get tickets? Because me and the rest of Fukurodani have been wanting to see you perform for such a long time, y’know?”

 

“Mmm. What’s Fukurodani?”

 

“Me and the other guys you met earlier! We’ve been entering all sorts of competitions everywhere to train, so when we finally go back to Japan and participate in The Big One, as I like to call it, we’ll win!” Bokuto jumps up, pumping his fist in the air. “Oh yeah, we’re here!”

 

A hassled-looking woman rushes towards Akaashi. “He’s here!” she shouts in English into her phone before shoving it in her bag. “Sir, you have six minutes to tune and get ready. Come with me.”

 

Akaashi glances back at Bokuto. “Ask at the ticket window. They may have some left.” Then he turns and walks away with the woman.

 

(And all the way through his performance, Akaashi can swear he feels a pair of owlish eyes staring at him.)

 

\---------------------------------------

 

-One Week Later-

 

Back in Japan, Akaashi is lying on his bed, taking a break from violin practice, when his phone buzzes.

 

**Unknown Number: akaashi?**

**Akaashi: Who is this?**

**New Number: oh! sorry, it’s bokuto. remember me?**

**Akaashi: Of course I remember you. How did you get my number?**

**Bokuto: i think kuroo got it from oikawa? why**

 

Akaashi flops back onto his bed and dials Suga with one hand, praying that he’ll pick up.

 

“Akaashi It’s been too long! How are you?” Akaashi can practically hear the smile in Suga’s voice.

 

“I’m so sorry, Suga. I wish I could talk, but…”

 

“Mmm. Tooru again?”

 

“Sadly, yes.”

 

“I forget. Why don’t you have his number in your phone?”

 

“This way, every time he calls me, I can pretend it’s a spam call.”

 

Laughter tinkles through the speaker. “Alright then. Tooru! Get your butt downstairs!”

 

The faraway grumble of “coming, Mom” makes Akaashi smile until Oikawa presumably gains control of the phone.

 

“‘Kaashi! Long time no see, hmm? You should really visit more often - “

 

“Oikawa-san. Did you give Bokuto-san my number?”

 

“Weell, no, I actually gave it to Tetsu. What he does with that information is beyond my control. Besides, anyone can tell that he’s crazy about you already, hm?”

 

“Oikawa-san. I really don’t need you meddling in my love life, or lack thereof.”

 

“Uh-huh. That’s what they all say. You’ll thank me for this someday, ‘Kaashi!” Then the line goes dead.

 

Akaashi sighs, flinging his phone across his bed. Of course, the moment he does that his phone buzzes, forcing him to crawl across his bed to retrieve it.

 

**Bokuto: hey hey heey you still there?**

**Akaashi: Yes. What do you need?**

**Bokuto: d’you want to have some fun?**

**Akaashi:...sure. What kind of fun?**

**Bokuto: aw, loosen up. I’ll call and give directions, ‘kay?**

 

Sure enough, Akaashi’s phone starts ringing a moment later. Akaashi raises an eyebrow, amused, and picks up the call.

 

“Aka-aashi, you ready yet? Alright, this is how to get here…”

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

“...and you’re here! I can see you out the window! Hold on, I’ll get the door.” The call ends, allowing Akaashi to look around and take in his surrounding.

 

He’s stopped in front of a smallish building that looked vaguely like a barn. It definitely wasn’t a house where people lived, and Akaashi was wondering what it could be when the door suddenly slams open.

 

“Come on! We’re all waiting!” Bokuto urgently ushers Akaashi into the hallway and then into a theater-like room. “We’re here, everyone!”

 

Kuroo grins lazily from behind his bass, Komi waves energetically while at the same time taking care not to upset his cello, and Konoha inclines his head in acknowledgment.

 

“So, is anyone going to tell me what I’m here for?” Akaashi unpacks his violin and climbs up the stairs to the stage. “And where am I?”

 

“Oh, I can answer the last part.” Kuroo raises his hand, then lowers it just as quickly. “This is my dad’s, technically. As in, he owns the place. He really loves music of all kinds, so he lets anyone perform here as long as they’re decent people and they let him stand in the back to watch But when no one’s using the place, we use it to practice.”

 

“As for why you’re here, well, I was organizing my sheet music the other day and I found this!” Bokuto thrusts forward a few pages of music.

 

Akaashi squints. “...Lindsey Stirling?”

 

“An arrangement of Roundtable Rival! And since we wanted to try it out but couldn’t find a second violinist, well, that’s where you come in. So? Wanna give it a try?” Bokuto waggles the sheets in front of Akaashi’s face.

 

“Do I really have a choice, after I’ve come all this way?” Akaashi smiles, a real smile, and reaches for the papers. “Bring it on.”

 

(Later that night, when Kuroo’s dad goes to check up on the quintet, he sees them laughing and smiling, and Akaashi and Bokuto sneaking glances at each other while playing.

 

Smiling to himself, he closes the door and heads home.)

 

\-------------------------------------------------

 

-One Week Later-

 

**Bokuto: we did it!!!!!!!! we entered the competition!!**

**Akaashi: That’s great! When’s the first round?**

**Bokuto: two weeks? i think**

**Akaashi: Good luck, Bokuto-san.**

 

-Two Weeks Later-

 

**Bokuto: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**Bokuto: akaashi!!! WE DID IT!!!!!**

**Akaashi: That is honestly extremely wonderful! Where will you be going next?**

**Bokuto: uhhhh….i actually don’t remember sorry!! but!! it’s in two weeks, and fukurodani’ll be representing our “section”!!**

**Akaashi: I’ll be there, cheering for you!**

-Two Weeks Later-

 

**Akaashi: You guys were great! Congratulations!!**

**Bokuto: we were!!!!! this is great!!!!!! WE’RE GOING UP AGAINST JAPAN’S BEST IN TWO MONTHS!!!!!!!!**

**Akaashi: Don’t stress yourself too much in the meantime. And don’t worry. I’ll still be there. With more support this time.**

 

-Two Months Later-

 

“Why am I doing this? I’m not friends with the guy, or any of them, actually.” Oikawa purses his lips as he plops down next to Suga.

 

 

“I know, Tooru, but Akaashi and Daichi are, so let’s just do this for them. Besides, the music will probably be good too!” Suga wriggles excitedly in his seat.

 

Daichi leans back, glancing at Akaashi. “You know, given this is a national event, I would have thought this would be in a concert hall, not a gymnasium.”

 

“I thought so too, but Bokuto-san said that there were too many people and too many instruments to store, so a gymnasium was just easier.” Akaashi shrugs.

 

OIkawa leans in, eyes glinting. “Still using the ‘san’, hmmm?”

 

Suga elbows him in the ribs, eliciting a small yelp. “Shhh! It’s starting!”

 

The rest of the competition passes by in a blur, although Akaashi does remember standing up to applaud for Fukurodani with Daichi, Suga, and (reluctantly) Oikawa. Before he knows it, the competitors are all ushered back into the main room, huddled into groups.

 

A middle-aged man with glasses steps up to the microphone and clears his throat. “All right everyone, can I get a round of applause for all the teams that worked so hard to get here today!”

 

Loud whooping and cheering erupts from the crowd.

 

“Our judges here - “ he sweeps his arm across the table in front of him - “have done some careful deliberating, and have chosen a winner! Their name is on a slip of paper in this envelope in my hand.” The man waves the envelope to emphasize his point.

 

“Now, without further ado, I will open this envelope and call out the name of the winner. The best fiddler group in all of Japan is…”

 

He slits the envelope and unfolds the little slip of paper inside.

 

“...Fukurodani!”

 

Overcome with excitement and swept along by the crowd, Akaashi makes his way down the bleachers. The moment Bokuto catches sight of him, he shoves their award into Kuroo’s arms, who receives it with a slight eye roll.

 

Akaashi only has time to scream “YOU DID IT!!” before Bokuto crushes their lips together. Completely unprepared for this, they both run out of oxygen quickly, and when they part, the room is dead silent.

 

Bokuto starts backtracking. “I-I’m sorry, Akaashi! I-I guess I was caught up in the moment, or, something - “

 

He immediately stops talking when Akaashi leans in and presses their lips together again to shut him up.

 

Whoops, catcalls, cheers, and applause erupts from the crowd. Akaashi allows himself to be lifted onto the shoulders of Konoha and Komi as the Fukurodani team exit the building shouting “WE DID IT!!”

 

\-------------------------------------------

 

**Bokuto: the future looks bright!!**

**Akaashi: It does indeed, Koutarou.**

 

 

 

 

(bonus:

 

**Oikawa: are you suuure you don’t need my advice?**

**Oikawa: because you guys looked pretty comfortable back there**

**Oikawa: thanks to me, of course**

**(OIKAWA has been blocked.)** )

**Author's Note:**

> #saveakaashi2k16


End file.
